Their Little Miracle
by Lady Perditus
Summary: It was time for Windle and Jaxi Sparkshine to say goodbye to their daughter, their bright, beautiful little girl. Their little miracle. Oneshot!


**AN- So, this was kinda for a school project. After reading ToW I was absolutely devastated at Kinndy's death. It made me cry, actually . So that is what inspired this short, three page story. Hope you enjoy.**

**Oh, I don't own WoW. Blizzard does.**

* * *

They had decided to hold her funeral in Ironforge. Windle and Jaxi Sparkshine that is—the two well-known, cheerful couple that resided in Dalaran. And it was now, after the horrible tragedy of the bombing of Theramore (_curse Garrosh Hellscream—curse him to the deepest pits of the never ending Twisting Nether)_ the gnomes decided to pay a visit home.

Well, no, home wasn't exactly the right word, Windle thought with a heavy heart. _His_ home was Gnomeregan, the proud city of the intellectual race. They had built it large; almost ironic compared the short height they actually were. But yes, Gnomeregan, the great underground city, home of so many people. It was built as an accomplishment—to show the world despite their small size, the shortest race was probably furthest ahead in their inventions and their mind power. No matter what the Horde might've thought, even they had to grudgingly agree that maybe…just _maybe_ they were the smartest mortal race on Azeroth.

But in the end it didn't matter how large Gnomeregan was, or how many gadgets they had lying around. The troggs overran anyways, destroying it utterly…it would be a long while before the gnomes could run them out entirely and rebuild their ruined home.

Jaxi entered the small living room, interrupting her husband's line of thought. "Are you ready to go?" she whispered, her voice raw. The couple had been in the process of healing, but both knew the funeral would be painful—so painful, in fact, it might set back their progress. Windle noticed with a twisted stomach, his wife's eyes were red and slightly puffy, as though she had been crying moments before coming through the door to meet up with him.

With a sad smile he nodded, his old bones almost creaking as he stood up. _Had he really been there for so long?_ He shook his head. Neither he nor his wife would be bringing any bags, they hadn't planned on staying in the dwarven city long enough to need them. As they locked the door behind them, Windle looked around Dalaran, wondering how the city looked so normal when in truth almost everyone was still mourning the events of Theramore.

The purple hues of the floating city were beautiful as always, the grey, cobblestoned sidewalks were still clean. The only difference, Windle noticed, were the people. Even the flower vendor had a certain heaviness about her eyes, her smiles not truly genuine, and even as crazy as it sounded, but her flowers seemed more dead…almost as though someone had run about, sucking the dye of the petals from the very stem itself.

With long strides and no breaks, the gnomes had ventured across the magical city to see a mage, particularly one specialized in weaving together the very fabrics of time and space only to tear them apart again, only with a specific anchor in place, and in this case, Ironforge.

Celindra greeted them with a pleasant nod as she saw them in her line of sight. She stood from her chair, slowly walking over to meet them, afraid of their reaction. After all, it would be her to transport them to the place of their deceased daughter's funeral.

When neither Windle nor Jaxi said anything she merely retrieved a spare portal rune from her robes, muttering the incantations for the portal under her breath. In a few minutes (_and how long those minutes seemed to Celindra)_ an image began to fade in from the very air, the great forge of Ironforge, the very center of the city.

Again, saying nothing, Windle pulled out a few silver pieces from his coin pouch, extending his hand as far as it would go towards the pretty, chestnut haired mage. With a sad smile Celindra took his hand, closing it around his money.

"I don't need it."

Jaxi looked up at her with watery eyes, flashing her a small, but genuine smile. "Thank you."

Windle swallowed, took his hand's wife, and together they walked through the portal. For a few, weightless seconds the older man thought he was blind, a white light seeming to be all around him as he was being pushed by the arcane magic towards his destination.

Gasping as he nearly tumbled onto the floor, he steadied himself, looking around for Jaxi. A few moments later she appeared in more or less the same spot he did. Windle shook his head, confused at how Jaxi appeared after him despite them going into the portal together. _("Portal lag," he remembered Kinndy once telling him as she just began her apprenticeship under Jaina Proudmoore. "Time is really twisted up when you go through, sometimes you arrive where you need to be hours after you actually left.")_

Windle nearly cried at the memory of his daughter before steeling himself. He had to be strong, mostly for his wife, right now. He would save his tears for the funeral.

* * *

All was quiet in Ironforge that day, the dwarves had stopped their incessant clanging of the hammer against the anvil, the bread woman hadn't tried to sell her product and the auction house was closed, the lack of the busy, hustling people causing what almost felt like a void to those who had lived in the loud city their whole life.

With surprisingly dry eyes, Windle looked around the funeral to see those who had attended. Lady Jaina Proudmoore was the guest he may have been most shocked to see, thinking her duties as newly appointed leader of the Kirin Tor would be enough to keep even the teacher of their daughter away from her funeral.

Kalecgos, the once leader of the Blue Dragonflight, the very beings of magic was beside the lady mage, with focused blue eyes entangled deep in conversation with her.

With an encouraging nod from his wife Windle stood on a makeshift podium in the small area, clearing his throat. Immediately, the few who arrived hushed down, voices and opinions dying in their throat as they turned to listen to the father of the deceased child.

"Friends…family…" he began, looking less sure of himself by the second. Could he really do this? Talk about his daughter in front of all these people? Was he…was he strong enough to do so?

"Kinndy Sparkshine…apprentice to Lady Proudmoore…" Windle hesitated again, looking directly at Jaina. "My daughter…she-she was a miracle, really. An amazing blessing granted to my wife and me."

This time he turned towards Jaxi, who was smiling despite the tears streaming down her face.

"To those who knew her…_really_ knew her, then you'd know no words could possibly describe her. A light to all who were lucky to meet her, be in her presence. She's always have the right thing to say…she always knew how to brighten everyone's day.

But it was not just her personality that set her apart from anyone I've ever known. She also had talent, in the magical arts. Kinndy…my little girl, she was so bright at everything, she could succeed in everything, she had no limits to the boundless, amazing things she was capable of!

So…so it's here we have to say goodbye…" his voice choked as tears began to stream down his face. "Kinndy, honey, just know we could not be more proud of you."

He stepped down, meeting the embrace of his wife. There hadn't even been a body left to bury, that's how much the arcane magic in her blood from the mana bomb destroyed her.

Despite that fact, the father felt strangely at peace, knowing wherever she was _(no doubt with the Light—as she deserved. Her heart was pure gold.)_ she was probably smiling down on her parents, watching as all these people came together to say goodbye to the brightest gnome Windle had ever known.

"…Jaxi?"

He felt his wife move her head to look at him.

"What is it dear?"

"I…I think we're going to be okay."


End file.
